


Dance with Me

by Enchanting_Codswallop



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, One Night Stands
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-02-07 23:48:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12852147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enchanting_Codswallop/pseuds/Enchanting_Codswallop
Summary: Entrepreneur and farmer Jesse McCree was a lonely man who had trouble maintaining long-term relationships. He never expected that a one-night stand with a retired dancer would change both of their lives forever.The cowboy hoped he could finally fill his home with something it hadn't had in a very long time, something his mind craved, and that his heart yearned for...and something that the dancer had never truly known.ON HIATUS





	1. The Man in Black

**Author's Note:**

> ON HIATUS
> 
> This is a gift for a good friend! I obviously have no ownership of the characters mentioned within.

It was so early that the sky was still dark, the sun not yet risen. A country song played softly throughout the cabin of Jesse McCree’s black pickup. If the temperature outside wasn’t below freezing, he might have had the windows rolled down and been enjoying a cigar. Instead, he settled for eating a Snickers bar, refusing to stink up his new truck with the odor only a closed window and smoking would garner.

He’d been driving for something near five hours, all the way from his property in North Oregon. The man grinned, finally seeing the exit to Portland. With a flick of his blinker he soon found himself surrounded by the busy, sprawling city that he had grown so fond of. McCree knew that when day came, the horizon to the East would be lined with the giants of the Cascade Mountain Range. He knew he’d drive over the Willamette River that cut through this lovely city. The fact it sat so comfortable with nature almost made him want to live there permanently. Almost. Instead, he made bi-monthly trips to Portland for business meetings and management deals.

Jesse McCree was the owner of a beautiful 200 acre cattle farm called Peacekeeper Farm. The farm was where he lived and breathed, but it didn’t make much money, as only a small patch was actually fit for cattle to live on—the rest was taken up by forests and mountainous hills. His money came from the profitable chain of restaurants he’d inherited from his parents. With his wit, charm, and know-how, he’d expanded his inherited company and now made a ridiculous amount of money—which he just turned around and invested back into the business. McCree was the principle shareholder of High Noon Bar and Grill, a Southern-style restaurant chain that specialized in barbeque and high quality American meals.

As a man who loved the country and had always wanted a farm, he spent as much time on it as he could. Still, he worked hard, usually doing business meetings through daily Skype and phone calls on top of farm work. It was expensive to get lightning quick internet to his remote farm, but he did it for his own comfort. The trips to Portland were relaxing enough thanks to his boat of a vehicle, but he preferred home. McCree’d be lying if he said he didn’t love any excuse to get into his big, comfy truck with warmed seats though.

After a three-hour business meeting where nothing too particularly interesting happened, he was already hankering for a drink. Unfortunately, Jesse had more phone calls and meetings to deal with but that was routine. He missed his lunch and didn’t get to settle down until the sun fell again, early since it was wintertime. As he answered the phone for the seventeenth time that day, even with a secretary in a different state directing all his calls, he pulled out another Snickers from his mostly-useless briefcase. He’d lost count of how many he’d eaten already. Someone needed to make him stop stress-eating candy bars. Jesse talked and chewed, pacing the rented office space he’d just endured a grueling financial discussion in.

“Uh-huh…I hear ya…No…Huh-uh…” he droned, frowning as a piece of chocolate fell into the facial hair on his chin. He nearly went cross-eyed trying to see it, only to realize he couldn’t, and then idly swiped at it to get it out. That’s it, after that phone-call, he was going to tell his secretary that he wasn’t accepting anymore phone calls that day. Jesse did just that, putting his phone back in the pocket of his nice jeans and finally walking out into the frosty night air.

Portland’s streets were pretty busy for eight o’clock at night in the winter, but hey, it was the city. McCree had his tailor-made cowboy hat on and his favorite pair of boots. It was just a little strange to see him walking down the streets like some hero from a Western, but he wouldn’t change his style for the world. To keep out the cold he had a trendy black coat and a red scarf.  
The gratuitous amount of Snickers had kept him relatively full all day, but he was now sugared-out and desperately in need of some real food. His eyes lazily scanned the restaurants he passed, a yawn creeping up on him as he pondered the options.

A sign caught his eye that was just too good to pass up. It was a local theatre that was offering dinner and a live show that night. The sign made it seem kind of like a hoity-toity affair, but shoot, that sounded hella fun. Plus, he would only be a few minutes late to it. It would be nice to eat and mindlessly watch something…

He jogged a few blocks in the hopes he’d make it before they stopped serving food, his lungs hurting a little from all the cold hair. Jesse hoped he’d burned off at least a few bites of his candy-bar binge, panting triumphantly as he reached the theatre. He’d been to this particular theatre once before. It was a huge concert hall. What he didn’t realize was just how busy and high-profile this event was. There were banners everywhere and it seemed as if this was a pretty big deal. The event was apparently promoting the local Center for Performing Arts. After being told the event was almost sold out and he was lucky to get one of the expensive last tickets, Jesse McCree was soon seated at a large round table with strangers, looking on at the still-closed set of elegant red curtains. He made quick friends with his tablemates.

“Are you an actor?” One woman asked. He chuckled and shook his head, wondering if it was his clothes that prompted her question.

“Nah, just a farmer and entrepreneur.”

The woman blinked a few times, and then giggled. She was in expensive clothing and whispered something to what must have been her very tired-looking husband. The man snorted a laugh and then extended a hand to McCree. He was a natural socialite and charmed most of the people at the table. The only one who seemed to ignore him and the others completely was a straight-backed man in a black long coat, scarf, and leather gloves who sat drinking what looked like a glass of red wine. McCree knew the face of someone who didn’t want to be talked to, so he politely tried to let the man be. It was difficult to ignore him however, because the other man had a strong, angular face that was startlingly as lovely as it was masculine. His brown eyes seemed intense and his silky dark hair was pulled back in a fashionable low ponytail. There was gray at the other man’s temples, and he was obviously of Asian origin. It was difficult not to stare at the man in a way that would have been creepy. He kind of looked like a model.

The show began when everyone had a meal and drink, which took around half an hour. McCree was surprised by the sudden dancers that flooded the stage, and the surge of loud but melodic instrumental violin music. A live band played beneath, and soon someone gracefully cut through the dancers and began to sing. Honestly he hadn’t caught the name of the play or whatever this was, but it was so fascinating he forgot he even had food and beer in front of him.

The dancers were so entrancing and the singing was just so good and different than anything he’d normally watch, that he didn’t actually start to eat his food until intermission. He stood and clapped rather obnoxiously because he was beyond entertained. As a man who rarely watched any type of movie or performance, he was blown away by just what-in-the-hell-ever that was. He’d only watched two plays in his whole life, and was forced to go to a few musicals he found rather boring…but that one…that was something else.

The dancers had moved with the music, and the singer had also danced. How does one even do that? The women had flowy outfits that made them look like they were moving through water, and the men had tight ones that made them look powerful. Even a simple man like McCree could appreciate that professional display of strength and sophistication.

As the curtains shut for a small break, the spell was broken, and he snarfed his now cold dinner like he’d never seen food before. A rather snobby old man across the table was watching him like he was an animal. In reply to the man’s obvious disdain, he stuck his tongue out and childishly licked some pasta sauce he’d gotten in his beard away in a manner that clearly offended the man further.

McCree just laughed good-naturedly and chugged half of his beer.

“That was somethin’ else…I ain’t really used to shows like that. What was that? Like…what type ‘o show is this?” he asked the lady with the tired husband. She turned to him excitedly and started to prattle.

“Oh! It’s a mixture of ballet and interpretive dance! It’s very exciting! I love it. I am so happy they decided to let that young man sing this year…I heard…” she muttered, going on and on. She must have been a super fan. Her husband sunk lower in his chair and rubbed his face, smiling at her excitement.

Meanwhile, the man in black was watching the curtains. McCree was tired of seeing such a serious expression on that man after such a brilliant show! Was that gentleman truly having an awful day? Could nothing please him?

“Hey, did you like the show? Had to be one o’ the neatest things I ever did see,” McCree drawled kindly to the gentleman.

The man in black seemed surprised at being spoken to. He put down the glass of wine he’d been nursing and glanced finally at McCree. Under that scrupulous gaze, Jesse felt—no he knew—this man was probably judging him and maybe even a little annoyed at him.

“It was as I’d planned,” he said simply, in an accented voice that sounded exotic and sensual to the cowboy.

“As you’d planned? Wha’dya mean?” McCree said, raising one thick eyebrow and trying to ignore the way that deep voice made him melt a little.

“I choreographed the performance.”

“What? That whole thing?” McCree was incredulous. How could one person do something that complicated? Just as he was about to ask a question, the woman next to him gasped theatrically.

“Oh my god!” Her eyes were wide and she stared at the man in black like he was the messiah or something. “You’re Hanzo Shimada!? You are, aren’t you!?”

The man simply nodded once and took a sip of his wine. “I am,” he said slowly, looking at her more patiently than McCree thought possible. Of course, he’d never heard of this man. The woman—with renewed vigor—excitedly began to chat the poor man’s ear off. He accepted her fanfare with poise and his hard expression softened only a bit when she gushed over something from his past.

McCree didn’t understand a lick of what they were talking about. Something about ballet, a bunch of foreign words, Japan, and the HDC. That woman sure could win a who-could-talk-fastest contest. He sat staring at the pair with a rather dumb look on his face, only gathering that this man was someone who was famous and important. After the woman had the audacity to ask for the man’s autograph, which he surprisingly gave her, the lights began to flicker, signaling the intermission was nearing its end.

“That’s pretty impressive. I’ve never met a choreographer before,” McCree said gently as the room began to quiet. The husband pulled the now slightly hysterical wife away before she embarrassed him further. “It’s a damn good show, Mr. Shimada. I’m Jesse. Uh, Jesse McCree,” he held out his hand to the man who looked at him like he was a peasant.

The man took his hand and gave it a firm shake anyway, locking their gazes. The man’s attractive and piercing eyes struck through McCree in a way that would light a fire under him if he let it.

“Thank you. We’ve been working on it for months. My students have so far not let me down.” The way that Hanzo spoke was careful and purposeful. He turned back toward the stage with what McCree now realized was a calculated expression. He was so intent because he was scrutinizing the dancers and how they moved, making sure it all went according to plan. How interesting.

Captivated by the continued performance, the end of the dance came too fast. McCree was really enjoying the sample of this new world of entertainment, and felt a little sad when the curtains closed. He still stood up and hooted and hollered rather unceremoniously. That was one of the coolest things he’d ever seen, and he still couldn’t exactly describe it. The images in his head of the ladies jumping around through the air like little prancing fairies, and the men lifting them in the way that they did…it would be hard for him to forget. The whole atmosphere of the event was something rather magical he’d not prepared for.

He turned to Hanzo and immediately offered his hand again. The man shook it as McCree excitedly praised him. “That was really, really something. I mean that. I don’t really go to things like this, but that was…just plain neat.”

Hanzo blinked a few times and then the tiniest smile appeared on his pretty lips. “Neat,” he stated.

“Yeah! Neat, Jesus, I don’t even know what else to call it!”

The lady next to him chimed, “Amazing! Extravagant! Breathtaking…beautiful!”

“Yeah, what she said.”

Hanzo appraised him again, and then nodded. “Thank you.” Turning and looking toward the stage, he nodded again to himself. “Yes, they performed worthy of applause. It was to my liking. Not perfect, but I will prepare them to make tomorrow’s show even better.”

McCree was dumbfounded. Those ladies looked like angels and the whole show seemed right as rain to him! “Not perfect? Shiiiiit, you only think that ‘cuz you’re the leader o’ this thing. I swear to God I never seen anything like it. I think they did better than alright, just listen to the crowd,” McCree offered, gesturing to the cheering crowd that was now standing and clapping for the cast members as they came out and bowed. Some people threw flowers, and someone tossed a teddy bear.

Hanzo’s eyes narrowed in contemplation but instead of answering McCree directly, he simply said, “I am glad you enjoyed it.”

“Me too.”

This Asian man was one tough cookie. He was so hard to read. McCree was a simple man that didn’t hide his emotions. He’d met a thousand men like this, who hid their emotions behind steely faces, and he always somehow managed to make them mad before he was able to sweet talk them. As a person who had long since enjoyed the company of men and women, he didn’t stop his eyes from roaming Hanzo. He didn’t really care what Hanzo did for a living, or how famous he was, all he cared about was that he was attractive as hell. It had been a while since he’d gotten laid. Shit, why was he always interested in the ones that were the hardest to get? Jesse could tell just by looking that this man was not only not interested in him, but probably unhappily married or something. He was in this town for the night…might as well try his luck.

“Hey, Mr. Shimada, can I call you Hanzo?” he said, turning his body to him as the people began to leave the room. Hanzo made no motion to stand. Instead, he turned his pensive expression from his dancers back to McCree. The lady was about to pounce on Hanzo with questions but her husband drug her away.

“Yes."

“Well, I was wondering, I don’t much know a lot about this ballet stuff…but I’m glad I came here tonight. Can I buy you a drink to thank ya Hanzo? I’m sure somebody else’s choreography might put me t’sleep. Or not, who knows,” he laughed, smiling in that way that made his eyes crinkle.

The Asian man blinked once, slightly surprised—and smirked in amusement at the cowboy’s pronunciation of his name. “You want to buy me a drink?”

“That’s what I said, ain’t it?” McCree quirked an eyebrow.

“What do you want from me?”

“What! Nothing. I just—”

“You don’t know me. We have never met.”

“I was hoping to take you out for a drink because you impressed me tonight. Was kinda hopin’ I’d find out you weren’t seeing anyone,” the cowboy said cooly, in a suave way that said he wasn’t offended by the other man’s words at all, which he wasn’t. Oh yeah, Mr. Choreographer would play difficult. Difficult he could handle. If the other man was even interested men that was. McCree knew he was bold, but sometimes that was the only way to get to someone like this.

Jesse’s body language said everything his mouth left unfinished.

Hanzo’s pretty eyes widened for half a second and then narrowed again suspiciously. “Are you trying to hit on me or make a powerful friend?”

“Uh…” McCree blinked, wondering how in the world this man made him lose his cool with such a strangely blunt question.

“I’m hittin’ on you, damn it.”

The Asian man blinked a few times himself, looking pleasantly surprised, and then smirked with a wicked smile, as if he enjoyed seeing Jesse riled up. That bastard.

“Well then,” Hanzo said, glancing around the room and then standing. He buttoned up his coat and then met the other man’s eyes. “Fine. Then buy me a drink, Cowboy.”

McCree was so stumped he just stared at him like he’d sprouted a second head. It took only a moment for him to get his cool back before he grinned and then picked up his hat, putting it on and standing a little too quickly. Well shit. He’ll buy him the best damn drink you can find in Portland freaking Oregon.

The taller man stood at Hanzo’s side, still grinning. He couldn’t believe it had been that easy. Maybe the man just wanted a free drink…still, he was hoping he could learn more about him. “Any place in mind that you’d like?”

Hanzo turned his body toward him, and Jesse now realized how manly he really was. His neck looked strong, and his arms were muscular, obvious even when hidden beneath the material of a warm coat.

“The Cascada Hotel and Resort has an excellent bar. Have you ever been there?” Hanzo asked conversationally, making his way toward the exit.

McCree nodded. “Yeah, I stayed at the hotel once or twice. Their bar is pretty nice,” he murmured, noting that the other man smelled wonderful. He smelled like nice cologne and clean laundry.

“Then that is where we’ll go.”

“Alrighty. I’ll pay for a taxi, it’s getting’ a little too cold for me to enjoy walking that far."

Hanzo merely gruffly hummed an agreement and joined McCree when a taxi was hailed. He sat in relative silence, looking out of the window until Jesse began to ask him questions.

“So, how long ya been a choreographer for?”

“Something over a decade.”

“Christ! What did you do before that?”

Turning to look at him as if he was annoyed by the question, he asked instead, “What do you do?”

“Oh, well I own a farm and a bunch of restaurants.”

It was obvious the Asian man was expecting only one of those answers, but he seemed interested at least.

“Which restaurants?”

“The High Noon Bar and Grill. There’s one here in Portland y’know. So far I’ve got one in every state except well, Hawaii and Alaska. That was my goal, to put one in every state,” he chuckled, happy that he accomplished his life’s goal. He might still try to put ones in Hawaii and Alaska…but he knew that might be more of a financial burden than a financial blessing.

The Asian man’s eyebrows went up and he nodded. “I know of that restaurant. It’s not usually the kind of food I eat, but I do enjoy barbeque sometimes…”

That was good to know.

“Hey! Shimada is a Japanese name right?”

“Yes.”

“So what’re you doing here in Oregon?”

“You sure do ask a lot of questions.”

“Aw, c’mon, I’m just try’na get to know you.” McCree made a helpless hand gesture, but then had to pay as they left the taxi. The pair went into the grand double doors of a large, tall hotel that had a sleek, modern design.

“Get me a few drinks and then maybe I’ll answer more of your questions.”

McCree blinked and then laughed, patting the other man on the back and nodding. “Deal.”

Indeed, McCree’s promise was not broken, and he happily bought the other man the drinks he wanted. Hanzo had wanted that Japanese rice wine called sake. McCree didn’t really like sake, but that was alright. They had his favorite whiskey.

It took only a few hours, then late into the night, before McCree finally was able to get a glimpse into this exotic, mysterious man he’d met. They talked about all manner of things, but something he’d said got the other man to laugh—McCree was sure it was just his own stupidity. Hearing Hanzo laugh was nice, and he grinned like an idiot again after getting him to do as such. It was fun talking to the other man when he was looser!

“Sometimes, Mt. Hood looks like Mt. Fuji. It makes me feel like I am home. The two mountains are nearly as tall as each other, both covered gently in snow, watching over the city like giant sleeping beasts and just…” Hanzo had muttered, sometime after his laughing episode and more invasive questions from McCree. He looked suddenly forlorn, causing McCree to rub his back in a friendly, consoling way.

“It’s alright, I won’t make you talk about it…I shouldn’t have tried to pry.”

Hanzo downed the last of his sake before looking at McCree with a strangely hard expression and licking the last of the sake from his own lips. His eyes darkened a bit and he reached out, grabbing the cowboy by the front of his coat lapels with one hand. “Did you really just bring me here to talk, or are you going to take me upstairs and fuck me?”

McCree’s eyes widened with shock. He was sure he wasn’t that drunk! I mean sure, that’s what he wanted to do, but he’d planned on being polite about it! His mind stammered, but outwardly, his goofy grin turned lusty.

“Darlin’, I was try’na be a gentleman.”

“I don’t want a gentleman,” Hanzo said, standing up and steadying himself by putting both of his hands on McCree’s chest. “If you don’t take me upstairs right now, I will leave.”

McCree didn’t have to be told twice.

Heat roiled between his legs. Such brash words coming from such lovely lips had a very naughty effect on him. In moments, he’d stopped by the front desk, gotten a room and then guided the other man to the elevator with a palm pressed to his upper back. He watched Hanzo, who was absently playing with the hem of one of his sleeves. The Japanese man was so reserved until then, he wondered if he was seeing anticipation or nervousness. Who could tell?

ccOpening the door and walking into their new private room, McCree turned to speak to Hanzo, only for Hanzo to grab him and shove him against the door, forcing it loudly shut with McCree’s body weight. The startling gesture had caused McCree to drop their plastic room keys on the floor with a tiny clatter.

The cowboy let out an aroused and confused grunt, only to have it muffled by Hanzo’s lips suddenly pressed against his own. Melting against the door, he wrapped his arms around the dark-haired man and kissed him deeply, tilting his head and not hesitating to slip his tongue between those pretty lips he’d been watching all night.

Immediately, Hanzo moaned, meeting McCree with messy, lust-filled kisses that made a lot of noise in the quietness of the silent room. As McCree breathed Hanzo’s exhale, he gruffly moaned as he felt the other man grind against him. McCree growled as he began to hastily unbutton Hanzo’s coat, irritated that the thick material prevented him from feeling the other’s body the way he wanted to. He stole Hanzo’s sounds with aggressive kisses, time passing quickly as he undressed him. Finally, McCree was unbuttoning the black button-up Hanzo wore, breaking the kiss to observe the muscular chest that was revealed to him.

Hanzo pulled back, eyes filled with want and lips shiny, and when McCree finally slipped the shirt off of him, he began to undress Jesse. He made quick, rash work of it, desperate to feel the hot skin beneath his hands.

McCree was distracted by the beautiful and complicated tattoo that ran up Hanzo’s left arm, but only for a moment before a crushing kiss knocked his head against the wooden door once more. Fuck it was fantastic.

The cowboy grabbed and rubbed at the other man’s muscular stomach and sides, grunting out a moan as he felt the other’s hardened muscles. He was just so thick, god damn it. Gripping at Hanzo’s waist, he pulled the other man around and began to lead him to the bed, still kissing him like his life depended on it. Soon both men were shirtless and panting, erections straining against their confines. McCree pushed Hanzo to sit, and the other man climbed up in the bed, panting and laying back, just watching McCree. He didn’t have to say anything. The conversation between their gazes was all it took. McCree got the distinct feeling that Hanzo was going to let him top.

As Jesse pulled his wallet out of his pants, Hanzo undid his own belt and soon discarded his own black trousers, tossing them aside. The loud thunk of his belt hitting the ground made McCree’s member throb, and he bit his lip, pulling out the little packets of condoms and lube he always carried with him in his billfold.

He undid his jeans, dropping them, pulling off his socks, and kicking them aside before he crawled between Hanzo’s legs and descended upon the other man’s chest. He kneaded Hanzo’s chest like he had a pair of breasts, kissing and licking at one of his taut pink nipples. The brunette abused the small bud of flesh for a while before he buried his face between the other man’s pecks, kissing the spot loudly. One of his hands ran up and down Hanzo’s body, making sure to palm his cock through his underwear as he did so. He felt good and hard already. Perfect. He knew they were moving fast, but it didn’t matter.

Hanzo arched his chest into McCree’s waiting mouth, gentle but wanton noises spilling from his lips. McCree’s mouth sucked and bit at the meatiest part of Hanzo’s peck, eliciting a throaty groan-growl from the cowboy at how wonderful that warm skin felt between his teeth. He ran his hand down the other man’s side, clenching and squeezing at his thick thigh. He squeezed a few times before he brought that hand lower, between Hanzo’s legs and began to paw at the member he found there. Hanzo’s hips moved against the warm hand, and he grabbed McCree’s face, pulling him up roughly for a hot kiss. They moaned together as McCree pulled Hanzo’s member from his underwear, gripping his cock in his fist and pumping him slowly. As he massaged his tip with his thumb, he was rewarded with a rather sweet moan from the serious man. He grinned, still a bit buzzed from all the drink he’d had, but sober enough to know that he wanted to feel Hanzo’s heat and tightness around him, and see what other wonderful sounds he could force from that dirty, perfectly shaped mouth.

Hanzo began to lightly rock into McCree’s fist, holding onto the brunette’s shoulders and muscular arms. He seemed pleased that McCree had a nice amount of body hair, and was built the way a farmer should be, hopefully not caring that McCree was a few pounds away from a soft stomach.

McCree slid Hanzo’s underwear off of him and then did the same to himself. As McCree left Hanzo’s lips to bite his way down his jaw, felt Hanzo’s hand rub and grip at his shoulders. It felt so good to make someone squirm.

Ripping open the little condom packet, McCree rolled it onto his member. He opened the lube and spread some on himself with a few pumps of his hand. His eyes flicked up to find Hanzo looking at his length, eyes dark and hungry for it. He knew what he wanted. He was going to give it to him.

Hanzo laid back, lifting his hips and swallowing loudly as he watched in anticipation. McCree made quick work of lubing up his fingers and gently circling the rim of Hanzo’s bottom hole. He fingered it for a few moments, before gently working in his index finger, watching Hanzo’s every movement as he did so. When he’d gotten his index knuckle deep, he could feel the inner walls of the Asian man’s body throbbing and squeezing lightly against it. His heart thrummed and his member ached.

He rather unceremoniously worked his middle finger in, lightly thrusting them in and out of the other’s body. McCree knew that the small swell under his fingers was the spot that would make Hanzo feel wonderful, so he lightly began to rub against it. He was rewarded with a hip twitch from the man below him, and a deep groan. Thrusting his fingers in and out so slowly was agonizing, but he knew it needed to be done. Jesse was not a small man, and he wanted to make sure the both of them could feel as good as possible.

He wasn’t as inebriated as the Asian, so no matter what happened…he’d remember this. He’d remember those dark eyes clenching shut in pleasure, sharp cheek bones dusted with ebony eyelashes. The moon was brightly shining through the curtains and slightly fogged windows, the only true light available to the pair who hadn’t had time to turn any lights on. Still, it was enough.

It didn’t take long before Hanzo’s body was moving against McCree’s expert fingers, dying for the friction that created such a deep, warming pleasure in one of the most sensitive parts of his body. McCree’s cheeks burned, and he felt a deep pride that he could make this serious, angry man so undone with just one hand. He glanced down to watch as his lube-shiny fingers slid wetly in and out of Hanzo’s tight hole. It was beginning to redden from the mild friction. Hanzo’s abs clenched as his body moved and responded to the small twangs of pleasure running through it.

McCree removed his fingers and leaned down to kiss Hanzo rather gently as he put the tip of his member at the other’s entrance. Within moments, he was pushing into the other man, using small, even thrusts to work his way in comfortably. Hanzo gripped onto McCree’s arms and tilted his head back deeply into the pillows, exposing his neck and Adam’s apple.

With the kiss broken, McCree dove his head to lick and bite at that thick neck and grunted as the other man clenched around him. Fuck he felt so good. His ass was perfect, he was so warm and tight. McCree doubted he was going to be able to control himself.

In moments the cowboy was completely sheathed inside of his new, exotic lover, both of them breathing heavily. Hanzo lifted his legs to wrap them around McCree’s back, crossing his ankles over Jesse’s ass. The Asian man wrapped one arm around the brunette’s middle and then groaned wordlessly as he squeezed his innermost muscles around the large member inside of him.

Jesse pulled back nearly all the way out and then thrust deep, digging his toes into the comforter. Hanzo arched, fingers gripping at the cowboy in pleasure. McCree filled him perfectly, rubbing the spot that made his blood boil and his body convulse every time he moved. Their bodies fit so well together, the height difference between them only making this position easier.

In moments, McCree was using his strong muscles to thrust hard and evenly into Hanzo at a steady pace. The bed made a soft, barely audible noise with each of his powerful movements. McCree grunted a gravelly, “Oh, fuck…yeah…” near Hanzo’s ear, and the other man simply kissed McCree sloppily, tongue pulling and licking at the other man’s. As they tasted each other, their bodies rocked hotly together, McCree going as deep as he physically could. Hanzo moaned loudly, clutching at McCree’s back and letting out a slew of small noises as the cock inside him forced waves of ecstasy on his body. 

“Mh…” Hanzo broke their kiss to mouth McCree’s ear, biting his earlobe and tugging at it gently to demand, “More, harder, Cowboy…” His voice came out breathy and desperate.

McCree obliged, growling an unintelligible reply and thrusting so fast, the loud slapping of their bodies reverberated against the walls back at them. Fuck it was good, it was so good, McCree could barely think anymore. He was losing himself, all he wanted was to come deep within this man, and watch as the ebony haired Asian below him released his own pleasure between them. They were both sweating, their bodies and the room smelling musky with their actions. The sheen of their sweat was visible as the moonlight caught it, a soft glistening in the darkness.

One of Hanzo’s hands dropped from McCree to clutch and pull at the sheets as Jesse’s pace became harsher and more unsteady, both of them made desperate, low noises that matched the pace of their panting. McCree pressed his face into the side of Hanzo’s, using both arms to brace against the mattress as he pounded into the body below him. This new pace drove the other man wild, forcing Hanzo to shout each time that member slid between his ass cheeks. His release was coming, McCree could tell.

McCree grabbed onto the headboard, fingers tensed on it in a white knuckled grip to slam into Hanzo as roughly and as quickly as he could. Hanzo’s eyes widened and then shut tight, as he tensed and writhed against McCree.

The Asian man’s mouth was open in a wordless cry as his body twitched and convulsed, forcing him into pleasured silence that was broken by a keening-moan as he came. A hot spurt splattered Hanzo’s own abs as he ground his hips and groin against the cowboy buried in him. McCree chased his own orgasm roughly, one hand still grasping the headboard to fuck the man below him thoroughly. He pistoned hard, pulling Hanzo’s body tightly against him and grinding into him as he came with a deep grunt-like moan. He panted, as he moved their hips together, dragging it out for them both. They panted raggedly, both desperately grabbing to kiss as soft noises fell from their lips—McCree kept on grinding, addicted to feeling Hanzo’s ass tightening around him, and feeling his body twitch with twangs of over-stimulation.

Hanzo finally stopped moving, but McCree stayed inside of the other man as they just laid there and abused each other’s mouths, kissing until both of their lips and chins were messy with saliva. It was dirty and wet, but this was probably one of the best fucks McCree had ever had.

The cowboy cupped the side of Hanzo’s face, gripping his hair in his strong fingers. He didn’t know when, but at some point the other man’s soft hair had come undone.

McCree sat up on his knees, Hanzo letting go of him. The other man laid back, one arm at his side and one on his chest, and watched the brunette with satisfied eyes that looked as pleasured as they did intense. His black hair was now splayed below his head, and his normally pale cheeks were pink with exertion. Honestly, it was one of the most beautiful things that Jesse had ever seen. Fuck him, Hanzo was gorgeous.

He pulled out of him as softly as he could before he sank down and began to kiss Hanzo’s collarbone.

“You alright?” He asked, knowing he went rather hard.

“Yes,” Hanzo breathed, chest rising and falling heavily as he tried to catch his breath. McCree watched a bead of sweat roll from Hanzo’s temple, down his cheek, under his jaw, and then disappear down his neck onto the pillow.

“Good,” he said, words muffled by Hanzo’s own skin. Sitting up on his knees again, McCree leaned over and grabbed a tissue, cleaning Hanzo’s torso of his release.

Finally catching his breath, Jesse pulled off his condom, tied it, and wrapped it in the messy tissue. He let it fall to the floor, because there wasn’t a trashcan in sight. Hanzo was relaxing, but McCree had to keep on touching that gorgeous body. He wasn’t for sure how much time had passed as he just kissed, teased and explored the other man’s delicious figure. They didn’t say much, they didn’t need to.

He didn’t really think they made Asians as ripped as this one, but hell, he’d been proven wrong before. When he’d found Hanzo’s mouth again, they just laid and kissed, with one of the Asian man’s legs wrapped over McCree’s thighs.

It was blissful just to lie and kiss in the dark, their lips moving against one another’s like they weren’t strangers. Their groins were gently rubbing together and McCree was getting hard again. He kissed his way to Hanzo’s cheek and huskily growled against it, accent heavier than usual.

“I wanna fuck you again, darlin’.”

Hanzo’s eye’s had been closed, but they opened and his expression was dark. He inhaled rather sharply before kissing McCree, and in no time the cowboy had another condom on and had buried himself to the hilt in Hanzo.

This time, he rolled so that Hanzo was straddling the cowboy.

Hanzo sat up, putting his palms on McCree’s chest and just looking down at him silently, his hair falling over his shoulders.

McCree looked up and was transfixed by him. He was just so beautiful. They locked eyes for a moment, almost too long, before Hanzo slowly rocked his lower body. He arched his back, grinding his bottom back and then forward, smirking with pleasure as McCree bucked up inside of him. The pair slowly spiraled into a heated frenzy of kissing, grabbing, and thrusting. Oh, fuck how he just wanted to watch the other man’s muscles bounce like that forever. Hanzo sinfully used McCree’s body for his own desire, grinding and jerking his hips in the ways that made his mouth open in pleasured cries. Completely enthralled by the other man’s grace and indulgence, all McCree could do was submit to his whims and roughly pump the Asian man until they both came again, holding each other tightly and moaning with abandon.

They did it again that night, in a new position where Hanzo was pressed chest-first against the headboard. After that, they were exhausted, and McCree had run out of condoms. By the time they had finished the sun had already risen well into the sky.


	2. Obsession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the winter worsened, Jesse McCree struggled to keep the beautiful man in black out of his thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The videos that McCree watches will have links available in the notes at the end, along with a few images mentioned in this chapter as well.
> 
> I hope you enjoy the second chapter!

McCree was woken to the sound of one of his alarms going off. Forgetting momentarily where he was and what had happened last night, he fumbled out of the tangle of sheets and practically fell as he groggily slapped at his pants for the phone. He found it and brought it up to his hear, slurring, “Hello?” before he realized it wasn’t a phone call.

Blinking blearily, he sat on the floor naked, on his knees squinting at his phone. It was 9 AM and he had too many missed calls to care about. Groaning, he sent a quick text to his secretary and second-in-charge. He was too tired to deal with this now…he’d only gotten what, two-and-a-half hours of sleep?

Rubbing a hand down his face, he turned and clawed his way clumsily back into bed, sleepy eyes suddenly sobering as he saw the beautiful, exotic face quietly watching him, looking sleepy but still so handsome. Last night’s—well, this morning’s—events came back to him all at once and he grinned at Hanzo.

The Asian man rolled, sniffing lightly and watching McCree as he sat on the edge of the bed. “Shit it’s only been like three hours,” he groaned, faceplanting into his pillow as a sleep-groggy headache forced him into silence. He didn’t care how awkward it might be to crawl back in bed with a one-night stand, he was exhausted.

Hanzo chuckled just as tiredly, “I can tell.” 

Jesse didn’t really know how many seconds it took for him to get back to sleep, only that it wasn’t many.

When he finally did wake up in the early evening, he was alone.

Somewhere, he was dearly disappointed, but honestly, what did he expect? What had happened between him and Hanzo, it was a no-strings attached night of indulgence. A one-night thing. Nothing more.

Sitting up and rubbing his face, he glanced at the empty side of the bed. The covers were mussed, but there was no other indication that anyone else had been there with him that night. Well, except for the tissues littering the floor and a few tiny bruises on McCree’s shoulders and thighs.

The image of that beautiful Asian face in the throes of passion kept rushing through his mind, and he just shook his head, deciding a hot shower and an overdose of coffee was in order.

This wasn’t his first rodeo, he’d forget about him somehow.

\--- 

A few weeks later, the winter had gone from bad to worse. McCree was snowed in on his property and forced to trudge through the snow every so often to check up on all of his cows and horses, nestled warmly in heated barns. It had been four days like this, with snow up to his knees a sun still hidden behind thick, overcast clouds. 

It was early evening, and McCree had just finished battling the elements to check up on the barn closest to his home. Jesse pulled off all of his wet clothing and sank in front of his roaring fireplace. His house was a homey log-cabinesque style building inside, but the outside was done up in fancy river rocks. It was a two-story structure, not counting his finished basement—i.e. mancave. McCree’s decorating was actually tasteful, as a past girlfriend had helped him turn his drab bachelor pad into something more fit for a wealthy family. Unfortunately, she hadn’t stayed long to make that family a reality. In truth, McCree was a family man. He always had been. As he looked into the fire with his work-tired eyes, he thought about some of his exes and past lovers and what could have been. If he didn’t have anyone to hold when he was snowed in during harsh winters like these, the loneliness always crept up on him. As he rubbed his hands together, blowing hot breath through his palms and scooting closer to the fire, a heavily accented voice echoed in his head. 

“ _Harder, Cowboy._ ” 

McCree stilled, mind suddenly awash with that Asian man’s blissful noises and smooth deep voice. He shivered, cock immediately throbbing at the memory. He’d done his best to try and forget about him over the past month, but sometimes, he just couldn’t help himself. 

_Hanzo…_ he inwardly breathed, tasting the name in his thoughts. He’d never heard a name like it, and spent a few minutes picturing those strong hands on him as his body warmed all by itself without the fire’s help. Standing and glancing around his warm, homey house, the unsettling emptiness of this ten bedroom building weighed heavily upon him. Alone. He had no pets, and his nearest neighbor was 30 miles away. The man was half tempted to rub one out right there, but he decided against it. He had a new mission in mind. Licking his lips to wet them, McCree stood and went to his office, sitting heavily in the computer chair with a hard look on his face. He was just lonely enough to do something he normally wouldn’t. 

Maybe it was creepy, but McCree wanted to find out something about Hanzo, or at least see if he had any social media to look at. Try as hard as he might, he couldn’t forget that him. There was just something about him. He was so exotic, so mysterious, and just so unendingly beautiful, that the chance to see his face again made his heart warm. 

Logging into Facebook, he searched for Hanzo’s full name. 

Oddly enough, he found a fan page dedicated to him, but no actual Facebook page. Curious, he clicked on the fan page. Images of that gorgeous face he remembered littered the screen, but the face he knew was about 15 years younger. 

The page was covered in images of Hanzo, but they were all from many years ago. Confused, McCree saw that most of these pictures were stills of videos. The other photos reminded him of athletic photos, ones where Hanzo had trophies, was sweaty, or bowing. It took a Wikipedia article and a full half hour of searching before McCree realized the true magnitude of the mysterious man that he’d met. 

Hanzo was an internationally famous male ballet dancer. Or, he used to be. 

His Wiki was covered in his accomplishments, and said that his career as the principal dancer of the Hiryu Dance Company ended dastardly in scandal. McCree was shaken that he could find this entire man’s life here on a webpage article. Still, he wondered how much of this was true. As he kept reading, he eventually clicked out of the page. It was a little too much for him, and he didn’t want to trust the accuracy of tabloids. 

He curiously went to Youtube and typed in “Hanzo Shimada.” 

In shock at the sheer amount of videos that came up with the name, he blinked and just clicked one. It was a video of a solo dance that had apparently won Hanzo a competition. It was rather short, but in it, he was captivated by how fast Hanzo moved and how high he could jump. It was just like those dancers he’d seen during the show, but there was a level of grace and ease in the dance he watched that he didn’t quite understand. It was almost silly, the pompous music and the little twists and turns…but the more videos he watched, the more amazed he became. He was shocked to see a cocky smile, full of showmanship and bravado displayed as he danced instead of the normally hard and serious expression he had grown accustomed to. Especially when he found a video of him and a world famous ballet dancer named Amélie Lacroix dancing something together called the Tschaikovsky Pas de Deux. 

McCree didn’t understand half of the things he was watching, a lot of video titles were even in what looked like Russian, but he just couldn’t stop. It was so beautiful, even if at first it was kind of humorous and strange to see a man dance like that. He watched Hanzo dance for hours, until he realized he was cold and his toes and fingers were positively freezing. Spell broken, he exited Youtube, but not before just typing his name into the trusty ol’ Google. 

There he was. He worked at Oregon’s Center for Performing arts as a choreographer and instructor. There was no phone number listed. 

Making his way to his kitchen, he decided he’d had enough cyber-stalking and tried to busy himself with answering emails and phone calls. It wasn’t easy to ignore the urge to watch more of those interesting videos, but he didn’t want to be creepy. Was watching someone dance for five hours creepy? Nah. 

A few days later, he attached the snow-plow attachment to his truck and cleared out his road. He was still lonesome, so he decided he’d go and visit a few of his friends. Soon, he found himself sitting at an Elk’s Lodge some many miles away, with one of his good friends, Jack Morrison. 

“And I kid you not, the guy jus’ up and hung up on me! I mean, I guess if he don’t wanna save half a million dollars through my company then whatever,” McCree started, telling a story about a business meeting gone wrong. 

Jack laughed gruffly, watching McCree with blue eyes and taking a sip of his frothy beer. “Shit. What an idiot.” 

“I know, right? Damn! Well anyway,” McCree chuckled, “When’s Gabe getting’ here?” 

The other man with silvery-white hair let a fond smile reach his tired lips and shrugged, idly glancing down at his white-gold wedding ring. “Any minute now. He said he couldn’t wait to hear whether or not you bought that leather business. Please tell me you didn’t buy it,” Jack said, squinting at McCree like he was an idiot. Which he was. 

The two stared at each other in the smoky room for a moment, a crowd softly cheering in the background as a large flat screen played some baseball game. 

McCree squirmed under the scrutiny. “Shit I bought the whole damn thing.” 

“God damn it, Jesse!” 

The cowboy shrunk and shrugged laughing, “I’m thinking about adding gift shops to some of my locations, y’know like them Cracker Barrel places!” 

“You’re more of an idiot than I thought you were,” Jack sighed, hoping to God his friend didn’t just waste a million dollars on a dying business. He loved the kid, he really did, but sometimes he just wanted to strangle him. He’d been Jesse’s friend for a long time and had met him some years ago when he arrested him for a minor offense. Jack had been a soldier, but now he was a cop who lived some 40 miles or so away from the brunette. “So, are you going to make like hats or what?” Jack was a little interested in the business deal though, even if he didn’t think it was a good idea. 

Perking up at his friend's interest, he proudly began to explain. “The whole shebang! I’m gonna market hats, belts, shoes, nostalgic things y’know? It’ll be great. Don’t even worry about it. I got people workin’ on it, and I’ll be visiting the location soon. Besides, I saved a bunch of people’s jobs! I can turn it around, and if I can’t I’ll just sell it all. Don’t’chu worry about me, Jack.” 

A gravelly raspy voice growled, “I think he’d worry about you anyway.” Gabriel Reyes, Jack’s husband, pulled out a chair and sat heavily in it. Small flecks of snow peppered the top of Gabe’s black sock cap, goatee, and shoulders. 

Jack, excited to see his man after a long day, pulled Gabriel in for a quick kiss. The Elk’s Lodge wasn’t exactly a place that was homosexual friendly what with its older clientele, but Jack and Gabe were scary as hell, so they were mostly left alone. Jesse took a deep breath and sighed looking at them, they were about as happy as two violent men with various degrees of PTSD could be. Shit he loved ‘em. 

“So you really bought it?” Gabe asked, taking a drink of Jack’s beer. 

“You know he did,” Jack sighed, swiping the beer away and grinning as Gabe pinched him in the side like a teenager. 

McCree nodded proudly, “I sure did. I’ll make it work. Anyhoo, you guys doin’ anything interesting after this shit snow storm stops?” 

The men both shook their heads, Jack muttering, “Not really.” 

Gabe tried to take another drink of Jack’s beer only to have his hand slapped. The tall Hispanic man just stared at Jack, eyes squinting into a lethal and hilarious glare. Jack turned and met his eyes. They shared a look before Reyes growled and eventually got up to get his own alcohol. 

McCree laughed and shook his head, “God. Wonder if I’ll be lucky enough to have something like what you got.” 

“Well your choice in partners usually sucks,” Jack rasped. 

“Hey, now?!” 

The men shared a laugh and talked about life. It was good to have his best friends around. He really did love them to death. As the night grew later, the talk grew more serious. Now all three men had a big plate of steak in front of them and were nursing various alcoholic beverages. It had been a while since McCree had gotten to spend any time with his friends, and watching their sweet and simple interactions made his heart hurt. It made him want a warm body to go to sleep holding and wake up with. It made him yearn for something he hadn’t had in a very long time. Maybe he’d go out prowling the bars again… although he knew that another one-night stand would do more harm than good. 

\--- 

It didn’t take long before the snow melted and the only evidence it had been around were the heaps of dirty snow piles on the sides of the high ways. McCree was driving the long 5 hour drive to Portland for the first time since the snowstorm, and wasn’t exactly looking forward to how busy he was going to be. It was early morning, still dark outside, the usual. 

With a heavy sigh he took the exit to the city and looked down at the Twix bar in his hands. He’d eaten about four or five Twix bars on his way, after downing some cola, and he was wondering if it would matter if he finished off the last one he had. Probably not. 

As he balled up the wrapper and tossed it in his passenger floor board with all the others, he licked the chocolate off his lips and out of his teeth. His thoughts were on the meetings he was going to have to attend, but his heart was on something else, or rather, someone else. Ever since that night with his friends, a certain Asian man kept worming his way into McCree’s mind. He’d had a dream about him the other night, too. Perhaps he could drown the thoughts with more candy. 

\--- 

$20 worth of candy bars—and maybe the whole top shelf of a liquor cabinet later—McCree discovered that no, he could not drown his sorrows in sugar. In fact, he wondered if he made his problem worse. The monotony of meetings passed in a blur until he was sitting alone in his hotel room the morning after he’d arrived in Portland, slightly hung-over from going at the liquor bar like a man dying of thirst. He went to a few more meetings before he found himself sitting at Chinese buffet sometime around lunch. 

As he stabbed a piece of chicken with his fork, he checked his phone for messages. There were a few but they were mostly ignorable. A waitress came by and refilled his drink. 

“Wow! I like your hat! You look like a real cowboy!” The server said in broken and accented English. It was a small, chubby, and pretty cute looking Asian woman. He smirked, turning his charm level up to 1,000. 

“Well shoot, thank ya sweetheart. I am a real cowboy. Got cows, horses and everything,” he drawled, watching as her little face lit up and she squealed. 

“What! Really?” 

He nodded. “Mmhm, wanna see?” 

As he showed this young woman pictures of his horses, to which she exclaimed something happily in Chinese, he chuckled. “You like horses?” 

The girl nodded and giggled. “I love them! When I finish my undergraduate, I want to go to Iceland to study, where there are fuzzy horses!” Her round cheeks were pink with glee at the thought of being surrounded by fluffy horses. 

McCree blinked and then laughed, “Fuzzy horses? Well I’ll be.” He saw that her name tag read, “Mei.” 

If that little lady was in college and working like a dog in a place like this, she deserved the $200 tip he left her. 

Her remark of him looking like a cowboy shook him though. It was a simple sweet compliment, but he was thinking of the last time someone had called him that. The last person who called him that was in this city, right now. 

McCree sat and had an internal battle with himself for what seemed like ages before he finally looked up the address of Portland’s Center for Performing Arts. It was broken up into a few different venues, but he eventually saw the address he remembered being the one where Hanzo’s office was. A studio called Portland Theatre and Dance. 

He felt like an idiot and a stalker, but he’d hoped in his truck, parked, and popped some money in a parking meter, nervously staring at the rather unassuming building. It was a three-story building of old European architecture with big open windows where onlookers could watch classes in session. Mentally cursing at himself for being so foolish, he idly made his way up to a window, peaking in. Here, a large group of boys and men were dancing to something the glass prevented him from hearing, with a few women going around and correcting their form. McCree walked farther down, coming to a window where about a dozen young girls in white and pink ballet tutus were holding onto bars and moving their legs in a practiced motion. McCree watched them for a moment, noting how they turned and rose their hands, repeating this motion many times. 

His heart about fell out of his ass when he saw a familiar figure in a black long sleeved shirt and pants lightly put his hand on one of the girl’s upper back, saying something to her. She straightened up and repeated her motion, with a swift nod from that gorgeous face. 

There he was. It was Hanzo, teaching young girls the most important early foundations and lessons of ballet. He was again captivated by the Asian man, shocked at the kindness he saw in those intense eyes as he gently called out orders to the girls. Hanzo was an elegant black-clothed figure who was scary for the most part, yet teaching those little girls with the utmost grace and care. It was so strange and different from the man he’d met at the bar. His hair was tied up tight in a loose bun and he had his hands on his hips, eyes scanning the tiny legs and feet for imperfections in their movements. 

McCree quickly turned the corner as Hanzo began to turn toward the window, literally almost shrieking in fear as he tried to get out of sight. He ended up running hat-brim first into a light pole, but it was worth it, he wasn’t in view of Hanzo anymore! 

Shit! That was a bad idea! Picking up his hat which had toppled to the ground, he gulped, heart hammering in his chest. What was he going to do? What could he do without seeming like a freak? It didn’t matter, he was going to do something. With determination in his step, he marched away and got on his phone. He searched for shows choreographed by Hanzo Shimada in the Portland area and he found one. It wasn’t for a whole week. 

He would wait a week. McCree may have been too chicken-shit to talk to him now...but he'd be prepared then! He’d only met Hanzo once, but he knew for a fact that the other man would be at the show to appraise his dancers. Jesse had to see him. That very minute he ordered tickets to a first-class seat. 

McCree might lose his mind if he never spoke to Hanzo again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it was a cliff-hanger...it's because the next chapter will be really long!
> 
> Here's those links I promised:
> 
> The dance in this video is the first one McCree finds, it's very captivating and beautiful:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uahJ_wDDOaQ
> 
> This dance is another of Hanzo he finds:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tHHvHYP2oqs
> 
> Here's the dance where a certain woman is mentioned to be dancing with Hanzo:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I8iG378NZt4
> 
> Lastly, here's a picture of a fuzzy Icelandic horse!  
> https://cdn6-thechristianpost.netdna-ssl.com/full/95571/608-458/img.png

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed. Please, if you have any comments or criticisms, leave them below!


End file.
